


MakoHaru Drabble Collection

by IchiBri



Category: Free!
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fluff, Ghost!Haru, M/M, Makoto's Birthday, New Year's Eve, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self Prompt, Valentine's Day, childhood AU, parenting AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:55:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IchiBri/pseuds/IchiBri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unrelated drabbles and oneshots focusing on the relationship between Makoto and Haruka.  Individual summaries and tags for each.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four Iwatobi boys want to welcome the New Year together, but things stray a little off plan.
> 
> Additional Tags: a side of ReiGisa, canon!verse setting, implied underage drinking

 

240 minutes.

 

Haru wasn't sure how his house got volunteered to be the location of his past teammates' end of the year get together.  Yes, the party was one of the reasons he and Makoto came back from Tokyo - along with spending the holidays with their families, or well, the Tachibana family - but he had assumed either Rei or Nagisa would host it.  That would only be fair, what with the latter of the two boys insisting the four Iwatobi friends should welcome the new year together, but that's not how it went down.

When Nagisa had sent Makoto the text saying to meet at Haru's house, Haru had been skeptical.  It didn't make sense to meet there, especially when they all knew the way to each other's houses.  Haru thought it'd be more efficient to tell them if the little party would be held at Rei's or Nagisa's house.  But as he and Makoto climbed the stairs to his house, Haru felt a strange inkling - like a sixth sense so to speak - of what was really going on.

His suspicion was confirmed when upon arriving at his house, instead of seeing Rei or Nagisa waiting outside for them, he was greeted with light flooding into the dark of night from the kitchen window.  And when he tried the door, he found it unlocked.  He and Makoto exchanged looks of apprehension, and Haru swore he saw a brief flash of fear in his partner's emerald orbs, which he found to be completely understandable considering the last time Makoto had ran into the little breaststroke swimmer in Haru's house, he had gotten the scare of his lifetime.

So Haru shielded Makoto as he slowly pulled the door open.  But it was quiet.  Too quiet.  So quiet that the squeak of the floor as Haru took a hesitant step inside echoed off the walls.  That tiny squeak - one that rivaled that of a mouse - was enough to startle the already tense Makoto.

When Haru felt the familiar tug on the hem of his shirt, he wasn't surprised.  In fact, he had been expecting it much sooner.  He shuffled to make room in the entryway for Makoto's larger frame and leaned back into the other boy in order to slide the door shut behind them.

Makoto opened his mouth to protest, because in his mind, Haru effectively cut off their best escape route; but when Haru toed off his sneakers, any protest he had prepared fell away in the presence of the other boy's confidence.  If Haru felt safe, then it must be safe.

"Rei.  Nagisa," Haru called out, his voice both calm and steady as he stepped further into the hall.  He paused, waiting to hear some sort of reply, but between the racing heartbeat he can feel pressed against his back and the shallow breathing brushing the strands of his hair, it was a little hard to focus.

But one thing he could not miss was the heavy stamping of feet upon the floor.  "Haru-chan!  Mako-chan!" the blond's voice reached the pair before he even poked his head into the hall.  Brilliant pink orbs lit up with uncontainable excitement as the boy dashed toward Haru, arms flailing at his sides.  Nagisa cried his friend's name again as he launched himself at Haru, wrapping his arms around Haru's neck and his legs around Haru's waist.  "I missed you so much!" he wailed unreasonably loud.

Even though the added weight was inconvenient and had him tottering back into Makoto, Haru didn't hate it - although the little blond greeted him the same way at the station a week and a half ago.  It was a welcomed inconvenience, being one he didn't get to experience nearly as much as he used to.

"We are gonna have so much fun!" Nagisa exclaimed, beaming grin upon his face as Rei helped to pry him off Haru.

 

180 minutes.

 

When Nagisa had said fun, Haru didn't imagine it would involve a scavenger hunt around his house.  And how was the game even fair?  Rei had hidden all the candies and their attached clues, so of course Haru and Makoto would be the team at a disadvantage.  Haru wasn't too thrilled about the whole idea, but Makoto was enjoying running back and forth through rooms and up and down the stairs; and if Makoto was happy, so was Haru.

"Haru, I found it," Makoto said, but his voice was muffled as he shimmied his way out from under Haru's bed.  When he was far enough out not to hit his head, he sat up on his knees and held a slip of paper between his pointer and middle fingers.  "But the candy's gone.  I guess Rei and Nagisa got this one too."

Haru and Makoto had yet to find a clue that actually had candy attached to it, and Haru could tell it was starting to wear on Makoto's spirits by the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.  He extended his arm, offering Makoto his hand like the larger boy had done for him countless times in the past.  "We'll find the next one," Haru told him as Makoto's hand wrapped around his, and the warmth of it brought a comfort that he only recently attributed a four letter word to.

The clue led the pair back to the living room, but the other duo had beat them there, and from the looks of it, the treasure hunt was over.  "I can't believe you guys didn't find any!  Were you even trying?" Nagisa asked through bites of Hershey's kisses.

"Of course, we were.  Right, Haru?" Makoto looked to the other for support, who nodded his affirmation.

"But how did you not find a single one?  This is your house, Haru-chan.  You, of all people, should've found some," Nagisa insisted.

"But Rei hid them, and he was on your team," Haru said.

Nagisa had the audacity to glance at Rei with a knowing smirk and mischievous glint to his eyes.  "But Rei-chan wouldn't cheat, would you?"

"No, of course not - I... I - I'm sorry.  It was Nagisa's idea."

"Rei-chan!  That was our little secret!" the mastermind behind the Hershey's kisses heist pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and leaning dramatically into his partner-in-crime's shoulder.  He nuzzled his head against Rei's side.  "You're the reason we can't have nice things." 

"Me?  You're the one who cheated."

"But you helped."

"Involuntarily."

"You were just as excited as me."

"Was not."

"Was too."

Haru tapped Makoto on the shoulder and pointed to Nagisa's stash of chocolate, seemingly forgotten in favor of bantering with Rei.  He brought his pointer finger to his lips and uttered a silent _shh_ before quietly sitting down.  Makoto plopped to the floor beside him and watched as Haru inched closer to the playfully arguing pair.  When he was within reach, Haru stretched on his knees and extended his arm as far as it would go.  His fingertips brushed against the candies' foil and closed around a handful of the chocolates.

He silently retreated back to Makoto's side and held the candies out for him to take, but Makoto only picked up a single kiss.  He unwrapped the chocolate and held it between his thumb and pointed finger.  A light blush colored his cheeks as he brought the candy to Haru's lips.  The dusty lips parted, and Makoto pushed the candy into the awaiting mouth until his finger brushed Haru's upper lip.  His touch lingered for the smallest of moments before returning to his side.

Makoto's gaze adverted to the floor, but barely a second later, he peered at the boy beside him.  The same flush of cheeks glowed upon Haru's skin, and it calmed the butterflies fluttering in Makoto's stomach.  He smiled, gentle and warm, and was overjoyed when the lips he had just touched upturned to mirror his.  When Haru offered him the hand full of chocolate again, he reached for another, fully intent on repeating his previous action.  But he had forgotten they weren't alone.

"Now who's cheating, Haru-chan?"

 

100 minutes.

 

No one - not even Rei - expected Nagisa to bring alcohol.  It was anyone's guess where and how the supposedly innocent seventeen year old got his hands on liquor, especially with the sheer amount of it, but no one was going to question it.

And then Nagisa had the great idea of turning a harmless game of Jenga into a drinking game.  The rules were simple - basically the same as normal Jenga, except the player who caused the stack of blocks to fall over had to take a shot.

"Hurry up, Rei-chan!"

"But I have to pick the right one or the-"

"Rei-chan!"

With Nagisa's insistance, Rei picked a block at random.  His hand shook as he slowly wiggled the piece free, and just when it looked like he succeeded, the precarious tower tumbled to the floor.  Utter defeat washed through Rei as his head dropped.  The single Jenga block slipped from his fingers and fell to land among the jumbled pile of game pieces.

"This is why I take my time," Rei muttered.

Nagisa sidled to Rei's side and patted him on the back.  "There, there, Rei-chan.  If it makes you feel any better, you're still winning.  Just look at Makoto.  He keeps losing and still has a dopey grin on his face."

But that dopey grin had nothing to do with winning or losing, and even the alcohol flowing through his veins was not the cause.  After his third loss and his third shot, he swayed against Haru, leaning heavily onto the other boy.  Now, Makoto was not a lightweight in the least, and his larger physique helped him tolerate the alcohol, but the other three didn't need to know that.  By his fifth loss, he stepped up his game and rested his head against Haru's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Haru's words brushed warmly across Makoto's forehead.

"'M fine."

But Haru declared that Makoto was exempt from the stipulations of the game.  When emerald orbs began to flutter shut, Haru pulled away slightly and told him to go lie down.  He hadn't expected Makoto to do so right there on the floor beside him, pillowing his head in Haru's lap, but he also didn't argue against it.  Slender fingers found their way into olive brown hair, and even with that hand busy stroking through the soft strands, Haru continued to dominate each round of Jenga.

 

30 minutes.

 

Nagisa and Rei disappeared after finally admitting defeat to Haru, Nagisa giggling about needing to get Rei-chan to bed.  The two stumbled up the stairs to Haru's room, and Rei leaned heavily against the smaller boy for support.  Haru followed after them, apologizing once to Makoto for taking his pillow away, but he really needed to make sure neither Rei or Nagisa fell down the stairs.

 

20 minutes.

 

Haru struggled to pull his door shut, leaving the two younger boys snuggled together atop his bed, as he hauled blankets and pillows down the staircase.  He blindly stepped into the living room and nearly tripped on the tail of one of the blankets.  He dropped his load where he remembered Makoto to be lying, and smiled at the muffled grunt of protest from the other boy.

"Haru!" Makoto whined as he rolled out from under the pile of blankets.

 

16 minutes.

 

The two boys remained silent as they cleaned up what would be their sleeping space that night.  While words weren't uttered, stolen glances spoke more than any combination of syllables ever would.  When blue and green met - catching the other stealing a peek - both sets of eyes adverted only to return a moment later.

 

4 minutes.

 

As Makoto moved the little table to the side, Haru set out a layer of blankets in its place.  He placed the two pillows side by side - as close as they could be without overlapping - and sat down atop the makeshift bed, pulling the final blanket with him.  When Makoto approached, Haru scooted over to give him room.

 

2 minutes.

 

Haru wrapped the blanket around Makoto's back and used it as leverage to pull the boy closer to him.  He crawled into Makoto's lap, wrapping his legs around Makoto's waist, and his arms draped around his neck.  He nodded toward the clock on the wall.

 

30 seconds.

 

The hands on the clock ticked away, counting down the seconds until the boys could do what they'd wanted to all evening.

 

15 seconds.

 

Their hearts beat in sync with the ticking clock.

 

10 seconds.

 

All the waves of the raging sea finally locked with the sparkling glints of emerald jewels.  A pair of strong hands gently cupped Haru's face, thumbs rubbing circles against the soft skin beneath his fingertips.  Makoto leaned close, his breath warming his partner's lips as he murmured the final countdown.  "Five...four...three...two..."

Haru's lips captured Makoto's, stealing the last number from his lungs.  There was no rush, no fervent hurry as their breaths mingled into one.  Each pair of lips moved against the other, neither dominate or submissive, simply content in each other.  They didn't pull apart completely, merely resting their foreheads against each other's when the need for air arose.  Makoto's lips turned up at the corners and stole a quick peck from Haru's cheek.  He pulled Haru even closer, splaying his hand on the back of Haru's neck and fiddling with the soft strands of dark hair.

"Thanks for letting me end one year and begin the next with perfection," Makoto whispered as he pressed his lips to Haru's forehead. 


	2. Portrait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto and Haruka are five, and they enjoy coloring.
> 
> Additional tags: childhood au, fluff and cuteness

"Makoto," Haruka huffs, more irritation in his voice than any five and a half year old should have mastered.

The bite of his tone does little more than to cause bubbles of laughter to erupt from the other boy's lips.  The musical little chimes echo around the pair as Makoto wiggles atop the miniature chair, but his seat is still high enough that his legs dangle over the edge without touching the floor.  His fingers clamp to the seat's edges, and he locks his legs together in an attempt to hold still.  "Sorry," Makoto apologizes, but the cheery lilt doesn't sound remorseful at all.

Haru glares at his friend for only a moment longer before puffing out a sigh and returning his focus to the piece of paper lying on the floor.  He scoots back on his belly so his chest doesn't lie atop the paper's bottom because he doesn't want to wrinkle the drawing.  He sets aside the apricot colored crayon and picks up the closest shade of brown he can find in the box.  It's not a perfect match to his friend's olive shaded hair, but he can't be too picky when there are only two browns in a 24 pack of crayons.

His gaze flickers to his fidgety friend, watching as Makoto rocks his legs back and forth.  Haru spots every little twitch of Makoto's fingers as he tries his hardest to sit as still as possible, but he wiggles atop the chair every few seconds.  The brilliant emeralds of his friend's eyes dart around the room, never lingering on any one object very long before losing interest and finding another.

But then Makoto catches Haruka's gaze.  His eyes immediately advert to stare at his dangling feet, but Makoto can still feel the weight of Haru's stare.  It's a pressure he feels like an itch upon his skin, the need to scratch at it running up his arms and his legs to reach his sides, the middle of his back, and even his neck.  But he can't scrape his fingernails over the irritations because he promised to hold still.  He didn't realize how hard that promise would be to keep when he made it, but Makoto's still determined to be as still as a statue.

That is if statues wriggled and fidgeted almost constantly.  But Makoto couldn't be blamed.  He's been trying his hardest to sit quietly on the chair for quite a while.  The first few minutes, or maybe even moments - Makoto doesn't know - the task was easy, but as more time passed, it became excruciatingly hard.  And now, it's near impossible. 

Between the urge to shake his limbs and the temptation to peek at the paper on which Haru colors, Makoto doesn't know which is harder to resist.  When he feels the weight of Haruka's focus return to the drawing, Makoto glances up from his feet.  He could see colors and lines adorning the paper, but it's hard to make out the overall shape at his current viewing height and angle.

Maybe if he's a tad bit taller, Makoto might be able to see the drawing better.  With Haru's attention so focused on coloring, Makoto thinks now's as good a time as any to try and take a peek.  So he uncurls his fingers from their clutch on the chair and presses his palms flat upon the seat.  Makoto checks one last time to ensure Haru doesn't catch him before pushing his weight up with all his might.  He stretches as far as he can, suddenly wishing he had as long of a neck as a giraffe.

"Makoto," Haruka admonishes, swiftly covering his drawing by crossing his arms over it.

Hearing his name startles Makoto into plopping back onto the chair.  How did Haru know without looking up, without ceasing the strokes of crayon against paper?  Makoto isn't sure, although the thought of a super power briefly crosses his mind, he throws out that idea as quickly as it came.  If Haru possessed a super power, he would've told Makoto by now.  So Makoto settles on him not being as sneaky as he thought.

No matter how Haru knew, it doesn't change the fact Makoto is caught red-handed.  He utters a quiet apology, this time without a breath of laughter, and fiddles with his fingers in his lap.  His bottom lip finds itself between the bite of his teeth as he stares at his dangling legs again.  He assumes he made Haru mad because he just broke the promise not to peek, so he can't bring himself to even look at his friend.

It's surprisingly easy to sit still after that, what with Makoto worrying himself silly over how to make it up to Haruka.  What can he do?

"I'm done."

Haru's words make Makoto jump in surprise, and Makoto finally looks at his friend.  Haru gathers up the crayons in a neat row by color and pushes himself to his knees.  He picks up his paper with feather-like delicacy and hides it behind his back.

Makoto happily slides off the chair, and his feet thud lightly against the floor.  He hops the few steps it takes to close the distance between him and Haru, leaning around the taller boy for a glance at the drawing.  "Let me see," he begs as he attempts to step around Haru, but Haruka steps with him, absolutely refusing to let Makoto get even a glance at the paper.

"Not yet."

"But, Haruu!"

"No," Haruka says with far more force, and Makoto gives up with a jut of his bottom lip.

Haruka leaves the pouting boy, quickly clutching his precious drawing to his chest when passing Makoto.  He carefully places the paper face down beneath the shadow of the chair and then hoists himself atop it with far more grace than his friend had.  He scoots back until the pits of his knees hit the wood of the seat.  "Makoto," he calls, letting his friend know he's ready.

At the sound of his name, Makoto's pout disappears, morphing into a broad grin that takes up the majority of his face.  He drops to the floor in the same spot Haru had been and grabs his own piece of paper from the pile beside the crayon box.  Makoto lays it out flat, smoothing his hand over its surface, before lying on his stomach.  He wiggles into a comfortable position and ends up with one arm draping in an arch to both hold the paper down and hide it from Haru.  His legs bend at his knees, kicking them back and forth in the air, while he picks up the black crayon.

Makoto gazes at Haruka and finds his friend staring back.  His stroke upon the paper falters, creating a squiggle instead of a smooth rounded line, but he simply colors over the spot a few times until it's bolded enough to hide his mistake.  It leaves the circle a little lop-sided, but Makoto's more than happy with it.

Makoto decides not to look up at Haru for reference, because seeing those piercing blues staring back is daunting.  It's a weight that presses down upon his hand to make every line he draws shaky, and he can't have his picture looking like a four year old drew it.  Because he's five, even if barely so, and he wishes to impress his older friend, wanting to make Haru as happy as Haru makes him.  And what better way to do that than to draw Haru the prettiest picture he's ever seen.  After all, Makoto always feels special - overjoyed - when Haru draws pictures for him.

And Makoto's positive he can draw Haru from his memory alone.  The outline is easy enough - a circle for a head, two parallel lines for the neck that connect to a skinny oval for the body, elongated rectangles for the arms and legs, two half ovals coming off the bottom of the legs for shoes, and squiggly bumps for fingers.  It's all about shapes and putting them together properly, and Makoto is a champ when it comes to shapes.  He imagines the peaks of mountains and mirrors their rise and fall for his friend's dark hair, shading in the black color slowly, being careful not to go outside the lines.  He traces the lines for the eyes, but the right one ends up slightly bigger than the left.  Hopefully Haruka won't notice.

He draws more shapes, assembling them into a recognizable figure to stand beside the first.  The second one is slightly smaller, not quite reaching the height of the first.  Its inside arm reaches a little farther than it should be capable of to overlap its fingers with the bigger figure's squiggly ones.

Makoto sets aside the black crayon, and his lips twitch into a smile at the mere thought of showing it to Haru.  But not yet.  He reminds himself that it'll look even better with a splash of color, and bright colors always made him happy so they should make Haru happy too.

Scanning the color options, Makoto picks out every blue he can find.  If he counts the purplish blue, he has four to choose from.  He bundles each one in his fist and holds them up in the air, quickly glancing between the crayons and his friend's curious eyes.  But none of them are quite right.  One's too light, lacking the depth of a stormy ocean, while another is too dark, lacking the soothing calmness of the early morning sky.  The last isn't bright enough to showcase the liquid shine which swells when Haruka is irritated or surprised or elated.  But Makoto thinks maybe if he mixes all three crayons together, he'll be able to show all of those hidden aspects of his friend.

So he lays them on in layers on top of the next, being careful not to color so hard as to overpower one shade with another.  It doesn't turn out quite as nicely as he had envisioned it, but Makoto believes it's better this way because he'd rather represent all of Haru than only a small portion of him.

He colors the body of the smaller figure in the same fashion with the same three blue crayons.  When he's done, he goes in search of the perfect green crayon but again is less than satisfied with his choices.  His obvious answer is mixing them together because it worked out well with the blue, so it should work with the green too.  He matches the smaller figure's eyes to the taller's body color, and he's almost done.  He finishes coloring the figures with a quick yet precise shading in of the skin.  But there's one last detail to add to each face.

Makoto retrieves the black crayon and places the point within the circular head of the tall figure, near where an ear would be if it had one.  He traces down in an arch, following the curve of the circle, and brings it back up to end horizontally across from his starting point.  After adding the same face of happiness to the second figure, he drops the crayon and springs to his feet.

"I'm done!" he proclaims in a bout of excitement.  He snatches the edge of the paper and holds his picture out as he bounces over to Haruka.

Haru silently slips to the floor with a quiet thud of his feet landing.  He dips down to retrieve his own drawing and clutches it in both hands to hold it against his chest.  Haruka glances at the ball of energy that is his friend before adverting his gaze.  Makoto is the very image of elation - what with his dopey grin and sparkling joy lighting up his emerald orbs.  Haru shoves his drawing at Makoto, forcing his friend to take it or let it fall, and of course Makoto catches it without putting a single wrinkle in it.

Makoto stares at the gift, and if Haru thought Makoto was elated before, he's thoroughly overjoyed now - beaming brightly from ear to ear.  "It's so good, Haru!" he praises, turning his emerald orbs to his friend's face.

Haruka glances up from the corners of his eyes, his cheeks flushing a light pink.  "Thanks," he murmurs quietly.  "What about yours?"

"Oh, um," Makoto says, glancing between the portrait Haru drew of him and his own handiwork.  He's suddenly feeling very self-conscious about what he considered to be a good drawing.  Haruka's is clean lines that run smoothly into the next, not a bunch of shapes stacked together.  Haru's reminds him of the gingerbread man cookies his mom makes around the holidays, but on paper.  It looks far more human than either of his figures, but it's too late now.  He already said he was done.

Makoto shakily extends his hand, offering his drawing to his friend.  "Here," he quietly mumbles.

Haruka gently takes it from Makoto, handling it with the utmost care.  He holds it out before him, and his eyes lock on the paper.  He's stunned at what he sees, because this isn't what Makoto agreed they'd draw.  They were only suppose to draw each other, but Makoto went above and beyond.

Haruka stares at the picture.  The lines are crude and uneven, but he still recognizes himself and Makoto.  Their hands interlock in the center, and each of their "clothes" matches the other's eyes, but what stands out the most - what has a warmth of glee bubbling within him - are two simple arched lines which adorn each of their faces.

"Do you like it?"  Makoto asks hesitantly.

Haru doesn't know what to say.  He's at a loss for words, but even if he could formulate a reply, he doesn't believe it could accurately describe his feelings.  So he settles with a nod of his head, and with that simple approval returns a grin to Makoto's lips which rivals the face consuming smiles of the boys in the portrait.


	3. Leaking Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine's Day, and Makoto wants to do something special for Haruka. Although his baking skills are questionable at best, Makoto decides to give it a try.
> 
> Additional tags: established relationship, a helpful and scheming Nagisa, and cooking mishaps

Makoto could do this.  He had everything he needed - an abundance of ingredients (with plenty of extra in case of accidental mishap), step by step instructions which included pictures, and a Haruka free apartment for the next two hours.  The one thing he lacked - which he feared would be the entire downfall of his Valentine's Day gift for his boyfriend - was decent cooking skills.  He could pour milk over a bowl of cereal but ask him to preheat the oven and he was already lost.

But he could do this.  Or that's at least what Makoto kept telling himself.  He had practiced for this day; asked Rei, Nagisa, and Rin for tips and advice.  It was Rei who went through the trouble of tracking down a simple recipe for him and even walked him through it until Makoto could spout each step in his sleep.  Rin had accompanied Makoto to the grocery store and assisted in picking out the best ingredients, and Nagisa was the reason for the Haruka free apartment this afternoon, calling up his friend and insisting he needed the older boy's help with something of dire importance.  With the support of his friends, Makoto knew he'd succeed.

Or he'd go down trying.

_Step 1 - Preheat Oven_

Makoto set out everything he needed on the counter top, neatly placing measuring cups and spoons beside corresponding ingredients just as Rei suggested he do.  He placed a cookie sheet to the side for later and retrieved a ceramic mixing bowl from the cupboard.  With his tools set out before him, Makoto inhaled deeply and lightly slapped his cheeks.  He could do this.

But there were a lot of buttons on the oven, and half of them didn't make any sense to him.  Makoto had no idea what broil meant, and thankfully he didn't need to.  His finger hovered over the options until he found  _bake_ and pressed it.  He waited, not changing the default temperature.  A moment later, the stove clicked on to preheat, and Makoto breathed a sigh of relief.  So far so good.

_Step 2 - Make the Dough_

A perfectly flaky pie crust - or that's at least what the recipe promised.  Makoto would be satisfied if it turned out edible, but he might as well shoot for the best while he was at it.  After all, the pastries were for Haru, and he deserved the best Makoto could offer.

Makoto stood before the mixing bowl, recipe lying beside it on the counter, and started measuring out dry ingredients.  He scooped flour into a measuring cup until it overflowed, but he remembered Rei saying you have to level it out.  So Makoto did the most logical thing and scraped the excess back into the container with his hand before dumping it into the mixing bowl, the flour poofing into a puff of powder.  He added the proper amount of sugar and a pinch a salt, more granulates ending up on the counter and floor than in the bowl.

After mixing them together with a fork, Makoto moved on to the butter and shortening.  The butter was easy.  The recipe called for one whole stick, so all Makoto had to do was unwrap it and drop it in the bowl.  The shortening, on the other hand, called for 1/4 cup, and spooning the proper amount into the measuring cup was not only difficult but messy as well.  It stuck to everything - the spoon, the cup, and most of all Makoto's fingers as he dug it out of the measuring cup to let it plop atop the rest of the ingredients.  But at least it made it into the bowl.

Makoto reclaimed the fork leaning against the mixing bowl and began to mush everything together.  Flour spilled over the edges with almost every flick of his wrist, and he paused several times to toss it back in.  When the mixture's consistency became chunky and formed pea-sized pieces like in the picture, he carried the bowl to the sink, snatching a tablespoon on his way.

The recipe called for 7 or 8 tablespoons of cold water, so Makoto averaged it to 7 1/2.  He stirred in the water, and his mixture finally took on the form of dough.  And it kind of matched the picture!

_Step 3 - Roll and Cut Out Dough_

Makoto balled up the dough in his hands, and it stuck to his fingers when he plopped it on the free counter space.  He tried rolling out the dough with the rolling pin, but it didn't exactly go as well as he had planned.  Makoto was no expert in baking - far from it - but he was pretty sure the dough wasn't suppose to be so sticky.  But he didn't know how to fix it or even if it should be fixed, so he gave up trying to roll out the dough with the pin.

He scraped the dough from the pin and squished it into the rest of the dough.  He pressed it out by hand, pulling and stretching the dough to the best of his abilities.  It was lumpy and uneven and tore in a few places, but it was going to have to work.  Nonetheless, Makoto could hopefully get a few good cut outs from the dough.

He grabbed the heart shaped cut out and stuck it into the dough, popping out the newly formed hearts and lining them neatly on the cookie sheet.  Makoto repeated the process until all the dough was used up, having to make one really small sort of heart shaped blob.

_Step 4 - Assembly_

Counting the hearts, Makoto came up with 25, but one of them was the blob of dough.  But that actually turned out perfectly because he needed an even number.

Makoto twisted the lid off of a strawberry jelly container and grabbed a spoon.  He dolloped jelly in the middle of 12 of the hearts before setting the sweet jam aside.

He topped each jelly heart with another dough heart, creating a sandwich of sorts.  Makoto pressed down the edges, pinching them together the best he could, but jelly spilled out on the cookie sheet and coated his fingers.  Jelly smeared onto the other heart sandwiches, giving them a more murderous look than loving, but Makoto couldn't have been happier with the outcome.

_Step 5 - Baking_

Makoto slid the cookie sheet onto the top rack in the oven, taking note of the time.  He had no idea how to set a cooking timer, so he'd have to keep track of the passing 15 minutes himself.  A less anxious person probably would pass the time away cleaning up their prepping mess or maybe sitting down to watch TV, but not Makoto.  He hovered - glancing at the clock every 30 seconds and peering through the dark little window on the oven door to constantly check his precious creations.

Makoto couldn't make out much, but he could see jelly leaking out of a few of the hearts.  It bubbled on the cookie sheet, and Makoto hoped there'd be at least a little bit of jelly left between the dough layers.

He paced the lengths of the apartment's kitchen, fumbling with the stickiness of his hands.  Time ticked by far too slowly for Makoto's liking, but the 15 minutes eventually passed.  He rocked on the balls of his feet as he found the cancel button on the stove and pressed it.  After slipping on an oven mitt, he let some of the heat escape before reaching into the oven to pull the leaking hearts out.

They looked done - a slight golden tint to the crust.  And the best part - the pastries weren't burnt and Makoto didn't start anything on fire!  No matter what they tasted like, Makoto could consider this endeavor a success.

 

Haru deadpanned, staring at his blond friend as the younger of the two twirled around in the middle of his bedroom, showcasing what had to be the 20th outfit Haru had seen.

"What do you think?" Nagisa asked, toying with the ends of a polka-dotted green scarf wrapped around his neck.

"It's nice."

Nagisa pouted, "Haruu-chan!  You've said that about every outfit."

 "Because they're all nice."  They really were.  Nagisa looked good in every overly colorful mismatch of clothes he could come up with, but Haru didn't exactly want to spend all afternoon commenting on his friend's date night outfit options on Valentine's Day.  He had a date waiting for him at home, and he and Makoto planned to spend the whole day together cuddling on the couch watching cute animated movies followed by a romantic home cooked dinner and some much naughtier nighttime activities.

Nagisa's bottom lip jutted out.  "You're no fun."  Pink orbs glanced at the bedside clock, and Nagisa instantly brightened.  He grasped Haru's wrist and yanked him to his feet, dragging him through his apartment.  "Thanks for coming.  You were a big help.  Enjoy the rest of your day."  Nagisa pushed him out the door and slammed the door shut before Haru could get a single word out.

That was weirdly suspicious, and Haruka knew something was up.  He just wasn't sure what.  He contemplated the possibilities on his short stroll home, countless Nagisa shenanigans running through his mind.  For Rei's sake, Haru sincerely hoped none of them were right.

When Haru reached his apartment, he dug the key out of his pocket and let himself in.  "I'm home," he called as he slipped off his shoes.

"Welcome back!" Makoto's voice greeted, but Makoto himself was no where to be seen.  Haru caught the sound of scraping metal coming from the kitchen.  Not only did his interest peak, but his worry as well.  Makoto in the kitchen by himself had never ended great before.

So Haru hurried to the kitchen.  When he rounded the hall, a sweet bakery-like scent met him, but the sight laid out before him was anything but bakery-like.  Flour and dough smudged the counter top, and dirty dishes piled high in the sink, seemingly dumped there and forgotten.  The apple-shaped containers that held flour and sugar were missing their tops, and an impressive heap of sugar surrounded their bases.  An open jar of jelly sat in the midst of this chaos, a spoon still stuck in it.

But most of all, the baker was a hot mess.  Disheveled hair stuck up in odd directions, flour clinging to the strands.  Long fingers were caked with dried dough and stained red, matching splatters peppering his exposed forearms and the front of his striped t-shirt.  He held a fork between his messy fingers, chipping away at a cookie sheet.

"What are you doing?"

Makoto straightened at the question, a light flush coloring his cheeks.  His emerald orbs glanced shyly at the heart pastries before he set the fork down on the counter.  He scratched at his neck, spreading the stain of jelly while doing so.  "I made mini heart cookies, but the jelly leaked out so they're kinda stuck to the cookie sheet."

Haruka's lips twitched into a smile, the corners upturning gently.  "Let me help," he said with an airy laugh at his boyfriend's predicament.  He dug around in one of the kitchen drawers and retrieved a metal spatula.  Coming to stand beside Makoto, Haru replaced Makoto's hold on the cookie sheet and pried the cookies free, although a couple broke into pieces in the process.  "Did you spray the pan before putting the cookies on it?"

Makoto quirked an eyebrow.  "Was I suppose to?"  Haruka nodded.  "My bad."

Makoto reached for one of the few that made it out of the whole ordeal unscathed.  He brought it up to Haru's mouth, and lips parts to take a bite.  Makoto waited, eyes watching for the slightest sign of distaste or disgust; but the butterflies flying amok in his belly calmed when Haru's smile grew and swimming eyes sparkled.

"It tastes amazing."


	4. Monster Spray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto's and Haru's daughter wakes up in the middle of the night because she heard a noise.
> 
> Additional Tags: married MakoHaru, parenting au

Makoto couldn't recall what he dreamt about, but whatever it was, the images faded away to the darkness of reality - or more specifically, of the night.  He blinked against the fuzzy weariness clinging to his eyes, lifting his head enough to check the time on his bedside alarm clock and internally rejoicing upon finding, that yes, he could go back to sleep for a few more hours.  His head hit the fluff of his pillow as he gave into the pull of unconsciousness, but a far more insistent tug dragged him from the peace of sleep.

His eyes pried open, a groan falling from his lips as the tugs escalated to firm yanks.  The bleariness of his vision focused after a few blinks, and his sleep-hazy mind finally registered that it was the front of his plaid nightshirt being tugged.  Half-lidded eyes glanced at his stomach, spotting the tiny fingers curled into his shirt and trailing up the arm to the little girl's face.  The trembling lips and tear-sheened eyes had Makoto's attention on full alert - no longer foggy with drowsiness.

"Daddy."

"What's wrong, Kei-chan?" he asked, reaching an arm out to his daughter.

Keiko latched onto his arm and scooted as close to Makoto as she could get.  Stretching on her tiptoes, she leaned toward Makoto until she was close enough to his ear to whisper, "I heard a noise."

Makoto's breath stilled in his lungs while his heart raced.  Peering into the surrounding darkness, he saw images of monsters and demons staring back.  Logically speaking, he knew better than to believe in monsters of the night, but that didn't stop his mind from conjuring up moving shadows and piercing eyes.

"I'm scared," Keiko said with another tug of his shirt.

 _Me too_ , Makoto thought, but he couldn't voice his fear.  At least not to his teary-eyed little girl.

"Haru," he said as he gently nudged his husband's shoulder.  When he didn't receive any sort of reaction, Makoto called his name again with a much more urgent poke to Haruka's cheek.

Makoto's hand was swatted away with a mumbled groan.  Haru rolled onto his side - his back to Makoto - and pulled the covers with him.

"Haru!"

"What?" Haruka huffed grumpily, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Kei-chan heard a noise."

The mere mention of his daughter's name had Haru cracking his eyes open to glance back at Makoto.  Among the darkness, Haru spotted the shining emerald eyes of both Makoto and Keiko.  He sighed quietly - knowing he wouldn't be tasting the delicacy of sleep for awhile - and rolled out of bed.  After flicking on the lights, he padded to stand next to Keiko and bent down to her eye level.  "Did you hear a monster?"

Keiko nodded, rubbing at her teary eyes.

"Shall we go vanquish it?"  When Haru received another confirming nod, he reached for the blanket Keiko dragged in behind herself.  He draped it over her shoulders like a cape and tied the ends loosely around her neck.  Haruka glanced at Makoto - who was still on their bed - and then back to Keiko.  "Tell Daddy he has to suit up too."

"'Kay," Keiko chirped, running up to Makoto to tug on his shirt again.

He had to suppress the urge to hide under the covers, squeeze his eyes shut, and wait until the thumping of his heart calmed enough for him to fall back asleep.  But Makoto relented to the insistent pull of his daughter, ignoring the hair-raising chill running down his spine.  He swung his legs to the floor and pushed himself to his feet, letting Keiko drag him to his dresser.

A neatly folded blanket lay atop the dresser - its matching counterpart already tied around Haruka's neck and billowing down his back.  Makoto followed suit and wrapped the thin sheet around himself; but instead of tying it around his neck, he clutched to the fabric like it would protect him from the imaginary monsters.

"Everyone ready?" Haru asked.

Keiko nodded - far more enthusiastically than Makoto, who swallowed the lump in his throat and shuffled closer to Haru.

In all seriousness, Haruka said, "We are about to go on a dangerous mission to defeat the monster under the bed.  Should you accept this mission and win, you'll be a hero for the history books.  Are you ready to be a hero, Keiko?"

 She raised her hand to salute.  "Yes, Sir."

Haruka moved to the door left cracked open, Makoto right on his heels.  Peeking his head out into the dark hallway, he scanned left and then right before snaking his arm out to feel for the light switch.  He flipped the switch and gave the newly brightened hall another quick glance before saying, "It's safe."

Keiko sidled up to his side and hesitantly peered into the hall.  When she found that it was indeed free of monsters, she stepped into the hallway with Haruka right beside her and Makoto cowering behind the pair.  They tiptoed through the short hall and paused when it opened up to a dining room and kitchen.

Taking the lead once more, Haru ventured a step into the darkness to flip on the lights.  He felt hot breath breeze against the back of his head in the moment when light chased away dark.  He glanced over his shoulder - ready to direct a grumpy glare at Makoto - but the quivering lip and teary emerald orbs had his glare softening to what he hoped would be a comforting smile.  Knowing Makoto, Haru figured his husband probably expected a monster to jump out and scare him when the lights turned on.

"No monsters," Haruka said.  His gaze flicked to Makoto, held his eyes for a short moment, and then returned to Keiko.  He opened his arms and easily swept Keiko into an embrace, stepping to stand before the fridge.

Sitting atop the fridge, a spray bottle showcased the words  _Monster-Be-Gone_ written in bold and colorful marker.  Keiko grabbed it and clutched it to her chest before being set back on her feet.

"Lead the way," Haru fondly smiled.  "We'll watch your back."

Keiko returned the smile, not a hint of her teary eyes or former trembling to be seen.  With spray bottle in hand - poised to take on any kind of monster - she confidently took the lead and backtracked her way down the hall, pass her fathers' bedroom, and to the open doorway of her own room.  She paused beneath the threshold to glance into the darkness before releasing a mist of monster spray into the air.  After waiting a moment for the mist to settle, Keiko stretched onto her tiptoes to reach the light switch.

Once again, when light illuminated the darkness, Makoto gasped, huddling so close to Haru that he was almost on top of him.  Makoto curled his fingers into Haru's blanket cape and mirrored his every step into their daughter's bedroom.

"Let's check the closest first," Haru said, walking to the folding doors with Makoto shuffling behind him.  He grasped both knobs as Keiko wiggled in front of him.  "Ready?" he asked.

Keiko aimed the bottle at the closest doors.  "Yeah."

Haruka pulled the doors open in a swift, fluid motion.  The second they parted, mist rained down in a series of consecutive sprays.  When the mist settled and no monster emerged; a dazzling smile lit up Keiko's face, and her eyes shined as brightly as any jewel.  "Closest clear," she beamed.

"Now for under the bed," Haru said as he closed the closest doors.

Haru followed Keiko to the bed, watching as she blindly sprayed beneath it.  "Check it, Papa?" she asked.

He bent down on his knees and dropped to his hands - his blanket cape coming loose and being tugged free by Makoto.  Peering under the bed, he saw nothing but a stray sock and a fallen stuffed animal.  He straightened up to kneel.  "All monsters are vanquished.  Mission success."  Haru held up his hand, offering Keiko a high-five which she enthusiastically returned.

"Let's get you back to bed," Haru said, standing to his feet.

Keiko handed him the monster spray and untied her blanket cape before crawling atop her bed.  She draped her blanket over herself and pulled the flowery fabric with her as she fell back to her pillow.  The second her head rested upon the fluff, a yawn fell from her lips, and her eyes drooped shut.

Haru bent down, leaning over Keiko to sweep raven bangs to the side and place a kiss upon her forehead.  "Goodnight, Darling."

Makoto came up beside him, mirroring his actions.  "Sleep tight, Kei-chan."

"'Night Papa.  'Night Daddy," Keiko yawned as she curled up on her side.

Makoto and Haru inched their way out of the room, pausing in the doorway to gaze upon their daughter.  Even as exhausted as they were, neither of them hated being woken up in the dead of night to fight monsters.  It wasn't as if it happened every night; so for the few nights when it did happen, they'd do whatever it took to ensure their daughter could sleep peacefully.

Haru quietly pulled the door shut behind them.  "I'll meet you in bed," he told Makoto as he headed for the kitchen.

He only made it half a step before a hand caught his forearm.  "I'll come with," Makoto said in a rush.

Haru couldn't suppress the single bubble of laughter that escaped him or the small smile which formed upon his lips.  No matter how many years pass, Makoto would always be the same easily scared best friend he grew up with; and he loved him all the more for it.

Raising the arm that Makoto wasn't attached to, Haru aimed the spray bottle and pressed its trigger before Makoto could register the action.  Makoto jerked back from the unexpected spray to his face, tugging Haru back with him.  "Haru!" he gaped.

"You'll repel monsters now," Haru said with a little smirk as he strolled to the kitchen.

Makoto followed after him, his grip on Haru's arm still tight.  "But it's only stale water," he pouted.

Haru shrugged as he put the spray bottle back atop the fridge.  "If it works for Keiko, it should work for you."

"But it doesn't."

Haru flicked off the kitchen lights.  Along with the darkness, the grip on his forearm tightened even more; but it didn't particularly bother him.  He let Makoto breathe down his neck as they made their way back to their room.  Haru ushered Makoto into their room before turning off the hall light and closing their door.  He waited for Makoto to set the blanket capes in a heap on the dresser, crawl into bed, and slip under the covers.

Once Makoto was settled, Haru flicked off the lights.  He rounded the bed to slide in on his side.  Scooting closer to Makoto, he slung an arm around Makoto's torso and pulled him flush against his chest.  He kissed Makoto's cheek before burying his face in the crook of Makoto's neck.  "I'll be your monster repellent," Haruka whispered, quiet enough he wasn't sure Makoto heard him; but the arm that snaked around him and held him tight told him Makoto heard it loud and clear. 


	5. Ghosts Aren't Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto, Rin, Nagisa, and Rei sneak into the clubhouse in the middle of the night in search of a rumored ghost that was spotted near the school pool.
> 
> Additional Tags: ghost!Haru, Makoto's a scaredy cat

In the dead of night - with stars twinkling brightly overhead - the chill of the autumn wind whistled through the chain links of the fence.  Makoto wasn't sure how his three friends convinced him to join them in a late night trespassing into the school pool, but here he was, handing Nagisa the keys to both the padlocked fence and the locked clubroom.

"Scared of the dark?"

The whispered breath against the back of Makoto's neck drew a startled squeak from his lips.  He sputtered for words as his head jerked to stare at his redheaded friend.  "Rin!" he whispered.  "Don't do that."

"It's okay if you're scared, Mako-chan.  We'll protect you," Nagisa chirped as he swung the gate open with a loud pang.

"Nagisa!" Rei chastised quietly.  "We'll get caught if you make too much noise."

"It's fine, it's fine," Nagisa said as he strolled backward through the gate.  "No one's here at this time of night."

"We are," Rei corrected.

"Besides us."  The little blond stopped in his tracks and planted his feet against the pool tile.  Purposefully checking for any eavesdroppers, he leaned toward his friends and cupped a hand to the side of his mouth.  "And a ghost."

An involuntary shiver ran down Makoto's spine.  He gripped his own forearm to the point of leaving prints upon his skin.  "Th-there's no such thing as ghosts," he stammered.

"Boo!"

"Wah!"  Makoto jumped forward and grabbed onto Rei's shoulders for support, spinning his bespectacled friend to hide behind him.

"Makoto-senpai, it's only Rin."

At Rei's comforting words, Makoto peeked out from behind him to spot Rin doubled over with laughter.  He forced a chuckle from his lungs.  "Haha.  I knew that."  Despite the bravado, Makoto stayed hidden behind the one friend who wouldn't try to scare him or convince him of the existence of ghosts, clutching his own forearm tightly the entire time.

"Chill, Makoto.  Ghosts aren't real."

"They are too, Rin-chan," Nagisa disagreed.  "Some boys in my class were talking about seeing one floating over the pool yesterday night.  Right, Rei-chan?"

"They  _believed_ they saw a ghost.  It was probably a reflection of the moon."  Rei pushed up his glasses.  "There's always a scientific explanation."

"But that's no fun!" Nagisa whined.

Makoto poked his head out from behind Rei.  "Guys, c-can we just go home?"

When a pair of hands clasped his shoulders, Makoto yelped.  "Come on, Makoto.  Relax," Rin said as he pushed his larger friend forward.  "We'll spend the night staked out in the clubhouse and prove there's no such thing as ghosts."

"Or we'll prove they're real!" Nagisa chirped as he jogged ahead to the clubroom.

The other three followed him and waited for Nagisa to unlock the door.  Nagisa ushered his friends inside and pulled the door shut behind them, blocking the majority of the light from a nearby streetlamp.  

Shadows cast by the moonlight shining through the window greeted the boys.  A looming darkness encased them, and the whistling wind sang them an eerie melody.

"Can we please turn on the lights?" Makoto asked.  

"That'll scare away the ghost," Nagisa said as he locked the door.  A mere silhouette in the darkness, he turned to his scared upperclassman.  "Rin brought flashlights if that makes you feel any better."

It didn't, but Makoto graciously accepted the flashlight his redheaded friend handed him.  He flicked it on to hesitantly sweep over the room with the artificial brightness.  The light trembled along with his hands, giving away the fear which ate away at his stomach to make him feel queasy.  At any moment, he expected the ghost to pop up before him - barely a centimeter from his face, forcing him to meet crazed eyes and lips dripping with blood.  It would cry bloody murder as shrieks spilled from its disfigured mouth.  Before any of them knew it, the ghost could possess one of them and turn on the other three with the killing intent of a starving lion.

"Makoto."

The teen nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning on his heels and almost tripping on his own two feet.

The lights flicked on even as Nagisa whined his protest about scaring away the ghost.  "Will it make you feel better if we check for ghosts and then turn the lights off?" Rin asked Makoto, his deep red eyes holding nothing but a tender concern for his friend.

Biting his bottom lip, Makoto nodded.  He clutched his flashlight close to his chest, forgetting to turn it off while following at Rin's heels to ensure their safety in the clubhouse.  He glanced over every cubby and locker, breathing out a quiet puff of air when the twisted face of the deceased didn't materialize before him.  His fingers entwined in the hem of Rin's shirt when they came to the dark entrance of the shower room.  As the lights flicked on, a hissing breath rushed into Makoto's lungs; but he found it to be a waste of air when the space was deemed ghost free.

"Does this make you feel better, Mako-chan?" Nagisa asked, uncharacteristically quiet.

"Yeah," he nodded.  "I'm okay."

"Lights out then.  Hit 'em, Rei-chan!" Nagisa practically bounced in place as he spun dramatically to send two thumbs up Rei's way.

Rei's hand hovered over the light switch as he turned violet eyes to Makoto.

Makoto understood the silent question lingering in those glistening orbs.  The corners of his lips twitched into a small, somewhat forced smile.  "Hit 'em, Rei-chan," Makoto poorly mimicked Nagisa's words, drawing a chuckle from each of his friends.

As the darkness of night descended upon the clubhouse, Makoto stiffened.  Okay, so maybe Makoto  _was_ afraid of the dark.  He thought the brightness of the flashlight would help ease his mind, but it somehow made his skin crawl with tremors and shivers.  He could only see that which was within the flashlight's range.  Everything else felt like foreign eyes watching him from the shadows, and a looming weight settled upon his shoulders.  Even as his fingers trembled, he flicked off his flashlight and squeezed his eyes shut.

When hands fell upon his shoulders, he jolted slightly and glanced at the dark figure behind him - only the vibrant red of Rin's eyes calming the racing of Makoto's heart.  "Come on.  Nagisa brought snacks," Rin said, steering Makoto over to the two dark lumps that were their duffle bags lying on the floor.

Makoto sunk to the floor next to Rei and across from Nagisa, with Rin sitting on his right.  Digging through the duffle bag, Nagisa carelessly tossed aside small blankets and handheld video games in favor of a mountain of assorted junk food - everything from chips to hard candy.  The little blond wasted no time ripping wrappers off strawberry-flavored delicacies and stuffing the treats into his mouth.  He held a colorful piece of taffy out for Makoto.

Even though he had little appetite, Makoto accepted the candy.  He listened quietly to the quiet banter as Rei chastised Nagisa for not bringing any healthy snacks, grateful for the lilt of their voices in the otherwise silent darkness.  He ended up not even eating the chewy piece of taffy, simply turning it over again and again in his hands.

"We'll stay up all night if we have to," Nagisa declared after two hours of bouncing off the walls waiting for the mysterious ghost to appear.  His sugar high wore off faster than any of them thought it would, and his every other breath came out as a yawn.

"You'll last another ten minutes tops," Rin grumbled from where he lounged on his back atop a blanket, his arm draped lazily over his eyes.

"Nope," Nagisa stubbornly shook his head.  "I'll be up all night.  Till the sun comes up.  Right, Mako-chan?"

Makoto's emerald eyes snapped from the starry sky outside the window to his tired friend.  Truthfully, Makoto believed Rin was right.  Rei passed out about twenty minutes ago, and Nagisa was fading quickly.  Rin would probably be asleep too if it wasn't for Nagisa pestering him constantly.  Makoto, on the other hand, was wide awake.  He'd be lucky if he caught a wink of sleep tonight.

"Uh... right," Makoto agreed with Nagisa, even as the younger boy stifled another yawn.

"Just go to sleep.  There's no ghost," Rin said as he rolled on his side to face the wall.

"Is too!" Nagisa whined quietly, but his exhaustion overwhelmed his normally chipper tone.  Slumping back against the wall, he pulled his blanket up to his shoulders.  "You'll see, Rin-chan," he muttered, his eyes falling shut.  They snapped open only to droop a moment later.

"Nagisa," Makoto whispered through the darkness, but he received no reply.  "Rin?"  Nothing but silence.

This was bad... really, really bad.  Makoto wasn't one to believe in ghosts, but he also wasn't able to brush off their existence as nonsense.  If only Rin or Rei was still awake to spout logic at him and convince him that the dark shadows were nothing more than they seemed - that there couldn't possibly be eyes as deep as the ocean and as vast as the sky staring at him from outside the window.  That was preposterous.  Right?

He blinked against the darkness, hoping the illusion would disappear.  But no matter how hard he rubbed at his eyes, he found cobalt blue orbs staring back.  Strands of silky black hair rustled with the night breeze, but wait.  Were ghosts affected by the weather?  Shouldn't wind travel right through them because they don't possess a physical body?

Makoto's heart raced at the thought, his pulse pounding in his ears.  Ghosts weren't real, so who's glimmering eyes was he staring into?  But humans didn't possess fair, transparent skin that allowed Makoto to see the twinkling stars upon the boy's cheeks.

Drawing his knees to his chest, Makoto wrapped his arms around them and squeezed his eyes shut.  Ghosts weren't real.  Those words echoed in his head as his inner voice repeated them in an infinite loop.  He was seeing things.  Yes, that was the answer to all this.  The blue eyes and silky hair and round face were all an illusion of his overactive imagination.  Just like when he'd convinced himself that the noise in the middle of the night was a monster when it was only one of his parents getting up to use the restroom.  Monsters weren't real, and neither were ghosts.

Peeking through his lashes, a startled squeak died in his throat when the feather-light touch of a finger pressed to his lips to shush him.  Moonlight reflected in the deep blue eyes of a boy who looked the same age as Makoto.  There was a glow to the boy's skin - a literal glow which outlined his figure and made him very hard to miss in the darkness.  Swimming goggles hung loosely from his neck, and the boy's pale chest glistened from droplets of water sliding over his abdominals.  The moisture glided over  sharp hip bones and down the boy's skin-tight jammers to pool on the floor by Makoto's feet.

Hair rose on the back of Makoto's neck as his body froze, each limb locked in place.  Lips parting to speak, he only managed to utter an unintelligible "Who?" which sounded more like the hoot of an owl than an actual word.

The boy simply stared at Makoto, his head tilted as curious eyes scoured Makoto and then flicked to the other three boys currently sound asleep.  "Nagisa.  Rei.  Rin," the boy spoke each name as his eyes swept over their slumbering forms.  His attention then returned to Makoto, meeting the shocked and watery emerald green eyes.  "Makoto."

Makoto's breath hitched in his lungs.  Never before in his seventeen years of life had he ever met the person standing before him.  At this point, he truly hoped this boy was a ghost and not some deranged stalker, because this was a classic horror movie scene.  Except Makoto wasn't nearly afraid as he should have been.  Evil entities weren't beautiful - at least none of the ones he was familiar with were - but this raven-haired blue-eyed boy was breathtaking.  The soft glow to his semi-transparent skin could be described as beautifully angelic, and not a hint of animosity or bloodlust marred his thin lips.

"How did you..?" Makoto quietly trailed off.

"You swim here," the boy said as if that answered everything.  He spun on his heels and headed for the door.

"Wait," Makoto reached for his arm, fingers brushing cold skin but not reaching far enough to catch the boy.

Makoto rose to follow, stumbling his first two steps and catching himself with his hands before his face could collide with the floor.  When he straightened and lifted his gaze to the door, the boy was gone - nowhere to be seen.  The other's absence only made his strides longer and quicker as he grasped the doorknob, fully intent on pulling it open.  But it was locked.

Was the boy truly only a part of Makoto's imagination - merely an illusion his mind concocted?  It wasn't possible to unlock the door, cross beneath its threshold, and relock it in the couple seconds Makoto's eyes strayed from the boy's back.  And now that he thought of it, Makoto couldn't fathom a plausible way the boy could've entered the clubroom in the first place.  It made more sense that Makoto imagined the whole exchange and was actually fast asleep with his friends.  A dream - that's what this had to be.

But the boy looked real... sounded real... felt real.

Makoto flicked the lock on the door and slowly pried it open.  He peeked through the small crack, eyes sweeping over the pool, until he spotted the boy sitting at the pool's edge - feet dangling into the water.

Quietly padding to the pool, Makoto stopped a short distance from the boy.  He rolled up the legs of his pants before lowering himself to sit beside the other, a respectable space between them.

Makoto turned to his companion who's staring intently at the water.  "Are you a-"

"I see you swim here," the boy interrupted Makoto.  "All the time.  It reminded me of my life."  He dipped his fingers into the water.  "Of being one with water.  Flowing with it instead of fighting against it.  Abandoning the world to its calmness."

Makoto smiled, leaning back on his hands and gazing at the boy.  "It's fun when you have friends to swim with."

Cobalt eyes peeked at Makoto, meeting his emerald gaze before returning to the water.  "I swim alone."

"Because you're a ghost?"  The boy didn't respond, but Makoto somehow knew the answer just by the flick of the other's eyes.  "You can join us anytime.  Nagisa would be ecstatic if you did.  He was really excited to meet you tonight.  And we'd keep the whole you-being-a-ghost thing a secret," Makoto found his words flowing faster as he spoke, unable to hide his excitement at having a new friend.  "It'll be fun.  I promise."

The boy considered his words for a few long moments.  The growing silence ate away at Makoto's jovial hope as he feared his offer would be turned down.

"-ru."

"Huh?" Makoto perked up at the sound.

"Haru.  My name is Haru."


	6. Happy Birthday, Makoto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did everyone forget Makoto's birthday?
> 
> Additional tags: Future Fish setting, established relationship, they're adults

Makoto woke to an empty bed, the blanket having gone cold with Haru's absence, but Makoto thought nothing of it.  After all, today wasn't just any day.  It was Makoto's birthday, and every year on this day since he and Haru moved in together, Haruka would wake early to cook a special breakfast.

But what did worry Makoto was the beeping of the alarm clock which woke him.  He expected soft lips pressed to his cheek or forehead to stir him from his slumber or maybe even the mouthwatering smell of fried eggs.  But the bedroom was quiet, and Makoto couldn't hear a single sound in their apartment above the bakery.

Both curious and concerned, Makoto went in search of his boyfriend.  He poked his head into the main room and quietly called Haru's name.  Minutes passed with no reply until Makoto could only assume Haru was below in the bakery like he was every other morning.

Which was odd.  Did Haruka forget what day it was?  Makoto shook his head.  That couldn't be it.  Right?

He busied himself with dressing for work before wandering down the stairs to the bakery.  The morning sun poured in through the windows to illuminate the few tables, chairs, and the half-empty showcase of pastries and desserts.  Makoto meandered behind the counter and paused when he spotted Haru through the circular window in the swinging door which led to the back kitchen.

"Good morning, Haru," Makoto said with a genial smile as Haruka carried a row of mini confectionery cakes from the kitchen to the showcase.

"Morning."  Haruka placed the cakes in the showcase before heading back to the kitchen.  He paused next to Makoto long enough to kiss Makoto's cheek and say, "A rush order came in, so I won't be able to bring you lunch today.  Sorry."

"Oh, that's okay.  Don't worry about it."

With that, Haru disappeared into the kitchen and Makoto returned to their apartment to grab breakfast.  Toast would have to suffice, because Makoto didn't have time to clean up the disastrous mess which would result if he tried making anything else.  He finished it in a few quick bites, packed leftovers for lunch, and headed out the door to work.

Throughout the day of teaching first aid education and training to aspiring firefighters, Makoto struggled to focus.  It was probably a good thing he volunteered to teach the class; because if he was on duty at the station and a fire was called in, Makoto doubted his ability to safely respond.  Even in the classroom setting, he stumbled over his words and struggled to answer the most basic of questions from his students.

Because did Haru actually forget his birthday?  In their entire friendship, neither of them had ever forgotten the other's birthday.  But Makoto kept telling himself it was understandable.  Haruka was busy - early mornings and late nights in the bakery were a common occurrence.  He couldn't blame his boyfriend if it slipped his mind.  And if that was what happened, Makoto couldn't be mad.  He'd go home and simply remind Haru.

But as the day went on, Makoto's cheery spirit diminished.  He checked his phone at every break in teaching, hoping to see a happy birthday text from his friends, siblings, or at the very least his parents.  Yet each time he checked, he grew more dejected at the static silence.  Did everyone forget his birthday?

No, that wasn't possible.  They must've been busy with work or school.  It was a weekday after all, so maybe the messages would come later in the evening.

It didn't matter what excuse he thought up, nothing quelled the worries running amok in his head.  He released his class early and hoped he could teach with a clearer mind the next day.  As he walked to the train station, his eyes were glued to his phone.  He checked nonexistent messages until finally getting fed up and typing out a text.

 

**_Sent to: Nagisa_ **

_Do you have any plans tonight?_

 

**_From: Nagisa_ **

_sorry Mako-chan. date w/ Rei_

 

Makoto's heart sank.  Nagisa forgot.  Rei forgot.  Haru forgot.  His family forgot.  At this point, he wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed.  He could wake up tomorrow and act as if today never happened.

As he neared the bakery, he glanced at the storefront with a furrowed brow.  Blinds remained shut, and the sign on the door read  _Closed._  Makoto wouldn't question that any other day, but he returned home earlier than normal - early enough that the bakery should still be open.

He climbed the exterior stairs to the second floor apartment as his curiosity peaked.  Where was Haru?  Did he step out of the bakery on an errand?  Makoto fumbled with his keys as he unlocked the door and stepped inside.  "I'm ho-"

Freezing in the act of toeing off his shoes, Makoto's emerald eyes widened at the sight before him.  Colorful streamers decorated the walls and a handwritten banner with  _Happy Birthday Makoto_  written in green and blue ink hung on the far wall.

"Nagisa, is that-" Haru started, but the words fell flat when he walked out of the small kitchen area and saw Makoto.  "You're not Nagsia."

"Sorry to disappoint," Makoto laughed, short and breathless.  "What's-" he cleared his throat, feeling moisture collect in his eyes, "what's all this?"

"A surprise party, but I didn't expect you back till later," Haruka said meekly.

Makoto breathed a shaky sigh of relief.  "So you didn't forget?"

"Of course not."

"But the rushed order?"

Haru crossed the room to Makoto.  Stretching up on his tiptoes, he whispered against Makoto's lips before kissing them, "You're the rushed order.  Happy birthday, Makoto."


End file.
